Fearless
by Cloakofinsanity
Summary: Order is kept by fear, and only few have the power to take that fear away. What happens when Anne, a gifted sorceress, unravels the fears of some of the people in Camelot? Sorry Uther...


AN: Good afternoon everyone. This idea came to me while I was half asleep in the backseat of my sister's car. Don't expect good literature.

Just to let you know: the ropes are invisible to everyone except Anne.

I own nothing

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She could actually smell it. The disgusting, festering odor that everyone in the room gave off. She should have expected it really; this was the council room of Uther Pendragon. With seven sorcerers and one warlock hiding away from him as servants. With both Arthur and Uther Pendragon. With ten councilmembers with hands hovering over their wine glasses in fear. The amount of fearful people in the room was astounding really. Fear twisted around each person in thick ropes, binding the person into their station. Fear of sight. Fear of deficiency. Fear of standards. So much fear... A shudder raced down her spine as she stepped lightly into the room. The bindings wrapped possessively around their prey; the victims not minding in the least. The cables fully engulfed only one person in the room though, the most fearful of them all. The warlock, the manservant, the protector. He was afraid. By knight's standards he was a coward. But how is that cowardly, Anne thought earnestly; we each have something to fear.

His ropes stretched toward her puny arm. How can you be safe if the protector is afraid? She shook her head as much as she could without getting noticed. Why is his magic so stifled by the fear? How can he do anything like that? Anne took a single step forward in her heels, the click resonating above all the other sounds. Thick strands entangled her sunshine hair, then wrapping around her flimsy dress and dingy heels. How? Why? What? Questions echoed through her brain as panic welled up in her. She was letting the rope wrap itself around her like an anaconda. No. No. No! Her mouth opened, and a grin split across that tanned face as she watched the ropes fall away.

"There is too much fear here." The words echoed across the long room, drawing the attention of the council to her. The elderly man sitting the closet to her on the right side opened his mouth to say the words she did not want to hear. Who are you? Instead she opened her big mouth once more. "So much fear... May I take it away?" The king's head bobbed up and down in shock. Her chiming voice took on a deeper tone as the words of the Old Religion flowed out of her mouth. "Pouco deus aproveitar o medo. Faga o destemido medo(1)," as the words flowed, inches of the blackened cable unraveled themselves from the stunned prey. Slowly, grins appeared on faces as the threads gracefully fell back to the earth. One by one they drifted to the floor, as if the now stringy cables weren't being forced to leave.

Once every single one of the horrid things were gone, Anne turned heel and stalked out, gone before Uther could come after her.

* * *

Each person blinked owlishly at each other for several moments before Uther made his move. After clearing his throat, his upper lip lifted off the lower for a moment until settling back down. Eventually, the paralyzing shock started to drift away, leaving a king ready to give speeches. Opening his mouth, he started with two sentences. The two sentences that started the unfortunately that followed. "Now some disaster is going to strike. I keep telling you all, magic cannot be trusted." As his surprisingly kingly voice rang through the long room, giggles echoed from the back, battling for the council's attention. Standing wearily, Uther opened his gigantic mouth and simply let his random words fill the room. "Shut up you withering dolts! You are lucky I let any of you anywhere near my presence; you will all be fired or executed if you giggle in my presence. Feeling a vague presence behind him, the king whipped around furiously, perfectly ready to randomly start shouting for executions, when a pale fist forcefully made its way to his face.

"What the heck was that for Merlin?" The king's son shouted, slightly outraged but more amused with his father's expression.

"Well he freaking deserved it! In fact, I should have done that years ago." The manservant shouted, throwing his hands up in the air for them to only fall pathetically back to his sides. "I mean honestly what does he do anyway? All he does is sit on his high and mighty throne and mess everything up!" A hint of a glare was shot toward said king, but a smile spread across his features as the giggling caught up to Merlin's ears.

"Shut up serving boy! You have no value, so may not speak in my presence!" A kingly voice boomed as Uther Pendragon opened his abyss of a mouth. As soon as those words were heard by each person, the whole room fell silent, each waiting in anticipation for Merlin's reaction. Seeing the grin on said serving boy's face, the prince laid his face down into his cupped palms and waited for disaster. He almost wanted to punch him for what came next. Merlin's long legs steadily dragged him over to the head of the table, where he sat. On the table. In front of Uther. A serving boy, sat on the councilmembers' table right in front of Uther, so no one could see him. It was not surprising that laughter could be heard in the next kingdom now.

Merlin leaned over, his face almost touching Uther's wrinkly one. "Now your highness, what the heck do you what?" (AN: right here is where I decided I could make it a slash fic, if I really wanted to) An intense staring contest then promptly sprang up between the two of them, clear blue meeting furious gray. Letting out a huff, Mr. Pendragon finally gave up and gazed over at his son, whom was laughing hysterically.

"Excuse me!?" Uther shouted at his spawn.

"You're excused," the manservant replied. Uther really needed to get rid of him.

"What Father?" Arthur said, not even bothering to turn his head toward his only higher up.

"Could you-" Suddenly, both Merlin and Arthur's eyes bulged out of their heads, or at least it looked like that, as they turned to the king. "WHAT?" Both shouted at the king.

"You know what never mind."

"Well, never mind to you too you little twerp."

"You cannot call you son a twerp Uther."

"Shut up servant boy; I could have you executed."

"Oh well." And with that, another well thrown punch to Uther's ribs, and incredibly fragile swords for the knights, Merlin was gone in a flash of light and two gold irises.

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I know, not the best ending, and there is no plot. However I had some fun writing it, and it may bring up some good ideas for drabbles...


End file.
